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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28969959">Lian Yu: Missing Pieces</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/W01FS0NG/pseuds/W01FS0NG'>W01FS0NG</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Not Confused, Just Lost [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chaos, Ethan being subtle, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Gen, Hurley’s chill, Hurt, Post season 6 of Lost, Sawyer is a packrat confirmed, Season 1 of Lost, The Crash, many OCs - Freeform, mostly - Freeform, violin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:33:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,514</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28969959</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/W01FS0NG/pseuds/W01FS0NG</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A few small moments in the early days of the crash and maybe beyond.</p><p>Also, I just finished watching Lost and then Lost: Missing Pieces. I thought that the miniseries added a lot to the actual show, so I thought I'd share these little moments I created while making a Lost fanfic... (these go along with the other two parts to Not Confused, Just Lost) enjoy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Not Confused, Just Lost [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Who’s watching?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, when I first thought about making a Lost fanfic, I came up with all these original characters before settling on Rachel for Lian Yu. These are them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ever since the plane crashed on this island, she felt as though someone was watching them. The first six days, the majority of the forty-something passengers who survived the crash wondered about two things. One, was if they were getting rescued. The other part was about that strange metallic sound that always accompanied a couple of trees being moved. Yet, Moira was more concerned with something else.</p><p>One day, she told some of the survivors, “I can’t help but have this feeling that we’re all being watched.” Although, that could also be a leftover feeling from when she was on the run from some bad people. </p><p>“By what?” Charlie chuckled. “The weird monster thing?” He fiddled with the tape on his hand. He sat near her in the sand. </p><p>“I can’t quite tell to be honest,” she said. Her eyes scanned the camp filled with plane wreckage and tarps. A few people hung out together. Jack, Sayid, and a few others spoke amongst each other as usual, not bothering to include other members in their discussions. Claire held her child-bearing stomach as she walked to the recently collected rainwater.</p><p>“Well, maybe there are other people here,” Ethan suggested in a slightly joking tone as he walked by. The man then stopped and leaned against a tree.</p><p>“That’s creepy,” Moira decided, running her hand through the sand. She wondered if she might find a crab burrowed underneath. It would distract her from the unsettling thought she just arrived at.</p><p>Ethan shifted his weight against the tree before sitting against it. “Why?”</p><p>“Because we’re in the middle of nowhere,” she reasoned. “If people were already here-”</p><p>“Oh, come on,” said Arzt, annoyed at the subject. The high school science teacher was just passing by with a jar in his hand. The jar had a bug in it. Moira figured he might like to find a crab, but he seemed more like an insect guy. “There’s none else out here! We’re in the middle of nowhere!”</p><p>“Are we?” Ethan asked in kidding with a raised brow.</p><p>Moira rolled her eyes. She hoped it wasn’t possible. Then again, this was a big island and they’ve only explored a small part of it.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tree Hugger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jason woke up on a tree. Interesting, considering he remembered falling asleep on the airplane. He’s always been a heavy sleeper on flights. When he was younger, his mom or dad would have had to wake him up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His ears wrung like a motherfucker, perhaps due to the tree. Not only that, but he had this massive headache and blurry vision. Jason blinked a couple of times, trying to get his mind straight. He leaned to his left but immediately regretted it. The blonde was so high up. Too high up for his liking. Immediately, he grabbed hold of the thick branch he laid on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His feet felt cold. His toes wiggled around and his feet moved in circles. Sadly, there was no sign of his flip flops. Why did he choose flip flops to wear on the plane? Oh, right, to get through security easier. The only other pair of shoes he packed was in his suitcase which… wait a minute, where was his suitcase? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seriously, where was it? Where was his carryon? And where was everybody else? There were other people on that flight, right? Fuck! Where was the hecking plane?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” He shouted. “Anyone out there?! Hello?!” No one answered. “Anyone?!” Still nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing at the other branches, it seemed getting to the center of the tree seemed easy enough. Carefully, he sat up and swung his leg to the other side. His hands gripped the bark, seeking balance. Twisting his torso, he swung his other leg. Now, he faced the rest of the tree. Getting up and walking would be too risky, so he decided to scootch his way there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took maybe five minutes? He couldn’t exactly tell. He left his watch in his carryon anyway. And his wallet. Okay, he really needs to find his things. Once at the center of the tree, he used the other branches as a brace so that he could stand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How lucky was he? No massive injuries. Maybe a few bruises here and there. He wondered how everyone else was doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was he caring about a bunch of people he’s never met?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Jason got to his feet, he hopped down. The dirt felt strange under his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of nowhere, a dog barked. Jason’s head perked up at the sound he wouldn't have thought he’d hear. Then again, there was a black man and his son with a golden retriever, maybe that’s the dog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushed over to where he heard the pet, but soon found nothing there besides bamboo. The man decided to walk on, try and get closer to the beach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?!” He tried again. “Is anyone out there?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Over here!” Yelled a man. Jason ran over to find a tall brunette in a college sweater and grey pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hey,” Jason greeted, a little breathless. “Do you know where any of the other survivors are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think they’re by the beach?” The man guessed. “I’m not exactly sure though. I’m Ethan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jason.” The blonde turned around before turning back to Ethan. “Um, which way’s the beach?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably this way,” the Brunette stated as he pointed in a direction ahead of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go,” Jason exhaled. The two ran in that direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon, they came upon the crash site. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A young man ran up to them. “Either of you have a pen?” He asked. He had pretty blue eyes and brown hair with bangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ethan and Jason looked between each other. “Uh, no, sorry,” the blonde said to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue eyed man adopted a look of defeat before running off and asking if other people had pens. People called out for each other, screamed, and helped each other. One guy got eaten up by the surviving engine. That exploded. Little fires were littered everywhere. Two people were almost squashed by a falling wing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit, thought Jason. This is just complete chaos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I need help over here!” Shouted a man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like that, the blonde immediately moved into action. He ran into the fray to help the people. People he’s never met, people who were in crisis. They were all in crisis. They were all stuck here on this island, and they all needed to survive.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Violin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Someone found a violin in the wreckage of the fuselage. This only happened when the people decided to take stalk of what was even in the damn wreck. The casing had a red velvet color with a smooth cloth. The people kept it with every other sorted thing. No one really thought to open it for a while, thinking that someone who actually had a violin would take it. Others thought that Sawyer might want to have it since he might want to have just about everything else. The man was a selfish, bullying, packrat, and everyone knew it. </p><p>And yet, he didn’t take the violin. He didn’t take it for weeks. So, finally, this teenager picked it up. Once he brought it to his makeshift tent, he opened it. The instrument didn’t seem to have taken any damage. Matthew thought that the case did its job very well. If there was ever a violin case that should win an award, it would be this one. </p><p>“Hey Hurley,” he greeted as the heavy man walked past him.</p><p>“Hey dude,” the brown curly-haired man said. He then stopped, noticing the instrument. “Oh, you retrieved the violin. Is it yours?”</p><p>Mat shook his head. “Nah. I don’t even know how to play it.”</p><p>“Maybe you could use this time to practice,” Hurley suggested before walking on.</p><p>“I’ll try!” Matthew projected. He’s never been around the orchestra kids in his school, much less ever been to an orchestra.</p><p>He returned his attention to the violin. Okay, now how do you play this? With that bow thing, right, with the weird horsehair or whatever? He ran his hands along the horsehair strings. They were surprisingly soft, and tight. The teen picked up the violin. How does he even hold this correctly? Seriously, how? </p><p>Wait no, didn’t he see people in the media play these? Yep. He did. The boy put his chin on the rest of the instrument and placed the bottom of the string instrument against his shoulder. Not taking too much care into how he h led the bow, he ran the horsehair against the violin wire. It sounded scratchy.</p><p>“I, uh, think you need Rosin for that,” Jack told him. Turning around, Matt found the doctor and leader of this camp standing behind him. “The amber-looking thing.”</p><p>“Oh,” said Matthew as he bent down to grab the golden tree sap trapped in wood. He rubbed it against the horsehair of the bow, because, well, that just made sense. Anyway, after setting the rosin down, he tried running the bow across the string again. This time, an actual sound was created. He exhaled out of shock and relief.</p><p>The boy turned towards the doctor and said, “Thanks.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.” He too walked away.</p><p> </p><p>After about a week, he was still just fiddling with the strings, figuring out what he thought sounded right and what didn’t. He played on the violin absentmindedly while new people arrived. Word got around that they were actually from the tail section of the plane.</p><p>A man who Matt’s never seen before walked up to him. He must have been from the tail. “Excuse me, that’s a violin, is it not?” He asked. His Australian accent was clear.</p><p>Matthew froze. “Uh, yeah.” He then put it back in its case and presented it to him. “I’m sorry, was this yours?”</p><p>“Yeah,” the man sighed. “I was heading for Los Angeles to do a gig.” He breathed out a nervous laugh. “Guess I won’t make it though.” Looking Matt straight in the eyes, he said, “Thanks for taking care of it.”</p><p>Matt developed a half-smile with crossed arms. “Yeah, um, I don’t exactly know what I’m even doing with that.”</p><p>“Would you like me to teach you?”</p><p>The teen couldn’t believe he heard right. “You mean that?”</p><p>“Well, sure, I mean, we’ve been stuck here for a month or so, it seems as if we’ve all the time in the world.”</p><p>“That’d be awesome,” he practically beamed.</p><p>The violinist smiled and said, “Well, I’ll come back tomorrow. We can start then?” </p><p>Matt nodded. “That’d be great, thanks.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.”</p><p>That night, Matthew laid in his tent giddy with excitement. It was strange really. He wasn’t usually into this stuff, but he wasn’t a jock either. Plus, he had been playing with the instrument for a while now. It’d be a pity to just give up now. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Failed Trade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This ficlet contains a character fully featured in the work Lian Yu, which is the first work in the series Not Confused, Just Lost. This little moment was cut from the work.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rachel searched through Elena’s things to ensure that everything was there. The sixteen-year-old died on the first day of the crash mysteriously. No one knew what happened to her, not even Kate and Jack, who found her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, here was the fifteen-year-old friend wanting to keep track of her things for sentimental value. All the clothes were there, which didn’t surprise her. Thankfully, all of her clothes were there, which didn’t surprise her. Her book was still there, most of her toiletries were still there. Rachel buried her with the jewelry she had on. Everything of Elena’s was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, there was one problem. A small stuffed toy that used to belong to Rachel’s dead younger brother was missing. The only reason Elena had it was because Rachel didn’t have any more space in her Chewbacca patterned suitcase or her backpack. The only reason she was taking the toy with her was for sentimental value. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, she really hated this plane crash. Rachel didn’t need to go through the trauma of the plane crash. She was already dealing with the trauma of seeing her family’s dead bodies and having to move away to America from everything she knew because her only remaining family lived in Manhattan Beach, California. Now, her best friend, who was flying with her for her benefit, was dead. No rescue had come, so she had no way to tell Elena’s mother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, she breathed out. Calm down. She moved the auburn hair out of her face. If anyone had the toy, it was probably Sawyer. He’s a packrat, he hoards everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked up to his tent and projected, “Sawyer, you in there?” He didn’t respond. “Sawyer!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” He asked as he walked out of his tent. He held an open book in his hand. “What do you want, Strawberry Shortcake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes rolled at the nickname. Her arms crossed. “Do you happen to possess a certain small stuffed bear in your vast collection?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what if I did?” He challenged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was my brother’s. I want it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled. “What, did your little brother ask you to get it for him?” He joked. She kneed him in the balls. He fell to the ground in pain, groaning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you see any little boys besides Walt running around?!” She seethed, fully gaining the attention of a few members of the camp. “My brother is dead. I just wanted to know if you had his plushy. Was that so much to ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I say yes,” he said, still in pain as he got back to his feet. “Will you catch me a fish?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her gaze hardened. “Do you even have it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steeled himself. “Catch a fish and find out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel frowned. “You know what? Fuck you,” she huffed as she walked away back to her make-shift shelter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” said Matthew as he approached her. His hands rested in his pockets. “You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel looked up from her sketchbook to see the brown haired, brown eyed teen. “Yeah, just…” she trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a step forward. “Yeah, I get it. Sawyer’s a dick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got that right,” Rachel laughed.</span>
</p><p>Matt made a gesture as if he just recognized something. “Are you from New Zealand?”</p><p>
  <span>Her smile grew as she nodded. “Yeah.” Her eyes regarded him. “I’m guessing Australia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “Yep.” There was a short pause. “Can I ask why you flew out of Australia instead of New Zealand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My aunt forgot that I lived in New Zealand. A friend’s mom had to give me a ticket from there to Australia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see.” His brows furrowed. “Could your parents not pay for that?”</span>
</p><p>Her face fell and her lips curled down. “No, they couldn’t.”</p><p>
  <span> Another awkward pause passed between them. “Well, congratulations on sticking it to the American asshole. I am going to go see if that violin still hasn’t been taken yet.” He then walked off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel smiled. “Bye, Matt.” He waved to her in kind.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Elena's Crash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Elena is a secondary character in my work Lian Yu</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I opened my eyes to see the blazing sun. What? Weren’t we just in the sky? Did we crash? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes widened. I tried to get up but my entire body ached. There was some part of my leg that felt unusually sticky to the ground. I turned my head and felt relieved, then immediate pain. Okay, so not completely mobile, but at east that still moved. I could see a bunch of grass. If I craned my neck back, I could see the tops of trees. Well, if I didn’t It didn’t feel like the ground beneath me was completely flat. Maybe I was on an incline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stray hair had found themselves covering my right eye. Even with it right in front of my face, I couldn’t exactly tell if it was a deep dark brown, like my eyes, or black.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyelids felt heavy, but every time they closed, I kept hearing the plane breaking and the people panicking. So I tried to keep my eyes open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where were they anyway? No one else was here. Were they on another part of the island? Were rescue teams on their way? How long have I been unconscious? Will I ever get to see my parents again? My dog? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wondered if my friend, Rachel, was okay. She was a nervous flyer. I remember she gripped the arm rests tightly when we took off, and when we had turbulence. Of course, I didn’t know that beforehand. We’ve never traveled internationally with each other before. If I wasn’t there to fly with her, she would have been flying unaccompanied minor. That would only heighten her recently developed anxiety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was cute. Auburn wavy hair. Stray side bangs that framed her face perfectly. Tiny freckles dotted her cheeks. She had hazel eyes with blue flecks that just seemed to pull certain people in. Me included.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could only tell that a day or at least ten hours passed because the sky darkened. Even then I couldn’t will myself to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My stomach growled and my throat was dry, but I was hurting. Starve and die of thirst or create more injury? I can’t just lay here for another day. I need water more than food to survive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the hours passed by, I heard the strange noises of some monster. Then a few hogs. Then a bear. The animals didn’t come near me. I never saw the monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bad news? I realized that my left arm was broken and my left leg had a gash on the calf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good news? It started raining. I opened my mouth to catch any water that would touch my lips. By the time it stopped, I was still thirsty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few hours later, I decided I better get up. Find something to eat. Once I painfully sat up, I paused. Shoes. Touching my toes, I noticed that I didn’t have any. Did they fall off me when I disconnected from the rest of the plane? They were slip-ons after all. That might be better for me walking around. Even if I couldn’t see, I would have a sense of what I was walking on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt around my left leg. The stickiness still bothered me. I had to turn my body to see some of the injuries. I looked bad. I winced when I touched my calf. There was a gash there. Blood and tissue were sticking to the grass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nearly stumbled getting onto my feet. With my arms out, I regained balance. After a few seconds, I stood up straight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking hurt like a bitch. Ankle pain, calf pain (from the gash and some muscle pain, probably), then thigh pain, then side pain, on both sides. I almost couldn’t stand it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Man, this forest is fucking creepy. Maybe it was the factor of me being by myself. Maybe it was the eerie bear silence of the place. Maybe it was because I knew that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> was out there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I managed to find this place called the Black Rock. It was a ship, wrecked on the beach and overgrown with vines. There were lots of things on it that reminded me of the slave trade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the island didn’t want me there for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strange noise filled the air. Speaking of that thing, it sounded as if it were headed my way. I ran and ran and ran, all along the flat jungle of the island, but the black smoke got to me. I found myself being lifted into the air. Everything hurt more. It felt like my flesh was being ripped. I let out this huge scream I wasn’t sure anyone else could hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when I saw this woman. She had dark hair and white skin. My vision had gone a little blurry at that point. I heard her speak, but I didn’t have the sense to answer. Everything hurt. I saw a light. Then everything went black.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Visit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I guess you could think of this as a sort of sequel to the second part in Not Confused, Just Lost: Whatever Happens, Happens; Time Travel's a Bitch.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One of the first things Richard did when off the island was go to Rachel’s house. He didn’t exactly know why, but he almost felt like he needed too. When he voiced this to the others in the safe house, Sawyer, Kate, and Miles agreed to go with him. They all liked, and missed the teenager. Only those three -- plus Claire and Lapidus -- would call her a kid. They didn’t get to know her when the island sent her back in time to when she died at age twenty-five. Richard knew her, and out of all of them he’s the one most pained about her absence. </p><p>The only one who thought to question how they would even start to find the house was Lapidus. Richard told him, “Ben’s network had information on everyone from Flight 815. That includes addresses, school records, things like that.”</p><p>Sawyer, Kate, Claire, and Miles weren’t as fazed by that fact seeing as they all found out about it one way or another. The pilot who flew them all away from the sinking island looked at them puzzled. “How are you all not bothered by this?”</p><p>Kate shrugged. “We just aren’t, I guess. Not anymore.” She then took a sip of her coffee. </p><p>Since their safehouse was in New Zealand, they thankfully didn’t need to fly anywhere. In fact, they just needed to drive the Range Rover a few towns over. Some of them couldn’t help but feel nervous about going. This was Rachel’s house, after all. With no immediate family still living in the house, it was placed on the market. Someone probably moved into it by now.</p><p>Once they arrived, all they did was peer at the outside of the structure.  A car was in the driveway, so clearly someone already lived there.</p><p>“Enjoying looking at a dead family’s house?” Someone shouted from across the street. Her New Zealand accent was clear as day. They all looked to see a woman with black hair, a green shirt, and khaki pants holding a bag of groceries. </p><p>“Sorry miss,” Kate replied, stepping closer to her. “Were you close to them?”</p><p>“As a matter of fact, our daughters were best friends,” the woman told them. Her voice was downbeat.</p><p>This woman looked so much like Rachel’s best friend Elena. She couldn’t help but wonder… “Your daughter wouldn’t happen to be Elena, would it?” </p><p>Shock appeared on the woman’s face first, then recognition. “Oh my god, you’re one of the Oceanic Six!” She turned towards her front door then back at them. “Well, come in so that we and your friends can talk.” She walked up the steps to her door and fished out her keys. “Oh! And can you please help me with the groceries?”</p><p>Kate and the others shared a look. They were all unsure. Miles walked over to the woman’s car and picked up a bag of groceries. Noticing his friends were still in place, he asked, “Are we gonna help her or what?” Richard’s feet took low steps to the car and grabbed a bag. Soon the others did too.</p><p>“Where do you want us to put them, ma’am?” Kate projected as the group walked into the house.</p><p>“Here in the kitchen is fine, and call me Julie!” The woman hollered. They followed her voice and set the bags down. “Now then,” the lady breathed out as she took a seat at the kitchen table. The others followed suit. She faced Kate. “Now, in the statement you gave the public, you crashed in the water and swam to some island. There were eight of you. Were Elena and Rachel the other two?”</p><p>Austin’s face fell. “No, Julie. Um, actually-”</p><p>“The whole statement was a lie,” Sawyer stated so that she wouldn’t have to, even though he didn’t know what the ‘Oceanic Six’ told the public. Kate gave him a look of betrayal, while Julie peered at them all in shock.</p><p>The mother’s voice was shaky. “What do you mean it was a lie?”</p><p>“We lied.” Kate’s voice was soft. “We did land on an island but not the one we told the press. Over fourty of us from the plane survived, including Rachel.” She paused, unsure if she should really tell her what happened to Elena. However, If she didn’t say something soon, Julie was going to ask questions anyway. “I, and two other passengers found Elena’s body in our first week there. Rachel buried her herself.”</p><p>The childless mother wept openly, shouting for it not to be true. “Surely if over fourty of you survived the crash then-”</p><p>“Most of the other passengers are dead too, miss,” Miles chimed in. Oh god, did he really just say that? “We were the only ones to make it off the island.” He’d rather not tell her about his role on a freighter filled with mercenaries.</p><p>“What happened then, did you guys go all <em> Lord of the Flies </em> on each other?!” There was that mix of anger, grief, and confusion. “And come to think of it, I don’t remember everyone else here being a part of the Oceanic Six!” She stood abruptly. Remembering something else, she pointed at Kate. “And you! You’re a wanted criminal! Why should I trust a thing you people are saying?!”</p><p>“The other Oceanic Six and I agreed to lie to the public in order to protect the island,” Kate stated firmly.  “And protect the public from the island.”</p><p>She outstretched her arms. “Why? It’s just an island!”</p><p>“There used to be hostile people living there,” Miles stated nonchalantly.</p><p>Her face contorted into more shock and confusion. “Used to?! What do you mean ‘used to?’”</p><p>The group shared a nervous look. Okay, Richard inwardly sighed. So, they were doing this. “Uhm, a lot of the people from 815 were killed by them.” Immediately, he added. “But not your daughter, and certainly not Rachel.”</p><p>Julie wanted to throw them out. She didn’t want to hear any more lies. And yet, she was also curious. Slowly, she sat down. She tried to calm her voice. Her hands grasped onto each other. “Then how did they die?”</p><p>“They were attacked by a creature living on the island,” Ricardo quickly stated. The Smoke monster could have been seen as some sort of weird creature, right? “None of us really got a good look at it, but we knew it was dangerous.”</p><p>“And that’s the truth?” Her eyes gazed into each of theirs. </p><p>“Yes,” Miles nodded. “That’s the truth.”</p><p> </p><p>As the group walked back to the car, Richard stated, “Sorry guys. If I had known it was going to turn out like this, then-”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” Straume stated quickly as he hopped into one of the back passenger seats.</p><p>“Yeah,” Kate agreed, sitting next to Miles. “And we did some good.” Her voice gained a low, saddened tone. “At least she partly knows what really happened.” Her door slammed.</p><p>Sawyer placed a hand on Richard’s shoulder, telling him, “Nothin’ we can do about it now.” He then got into the driver’s seat. After Richard went into the front passenger seat, the ex-con man said, “Hey, maybe tomorrow we can teach you how to drive.”</p><p>“Yeah,” the immortal man sighed. “Maybe.” They drove back to the safehouse. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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